


Hail Mary

by revampired



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (lol), And Victor calls Yuuri Sister, Blasphemy, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Clubbing, Daddy Kink, Dirty Dancing, M/M, Religion Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Semi-Public Sex, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Top Victor Nikiforov, Victor's dressed like a priest so Yuuri calls him Father during sex, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 11:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11207373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revampired/pseuds/revampired
Summary: "Sister" Yuuri Katsuki and "Father" Viktor Nikiforov meet at a gay bar's Easter Sunday after party. The Confession they make might be unorthodox, but Viktor's sure it's not one he's going to forget.(PWP with them dressed in sort of religious garb, basically. :P)





	Hail Mary

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% inspired by [this](https://somethingyoirelated.tumblr.com/post/161559167996/i-chose-my-religion-and-its-called-victuuri) amazing fanart on tumblr and also my desire to write my faves dirty dancing in the club. I hope I represented the art well in my fic!
> 
> I had way too much fun writing all the religious references during the sex scenes. Sorry that I didn't make them an actual nun and a priest, but the costumes in the fanart looked like the really fun campy pseudo-religious outfits I've seen at drag shows and parties, so I decided to run with that. :D 
> 
> Also, they do drink in the fic (they are at a bar/club), but I made sure to establish that they weren't too drunk to consent both in how they're acting and through, like, an actual conversation. 
> 
> Please don't drag me for writing this LOL

The pounding music pulsed a beat against Viktor’s heart, thrumming through his veins, hot like the vodka shot he’d just downed like it was water.

A DJ in a slutty angel costume, barely more than cheap feather wings and a thong, swayed his hips to the music while a particularly aggressive succubus curled around him, a curtain of long blonde hair trickling over his shoulder.

It was hot in the club, not just because of the steamy dancefloor packed full of horny twenty-somethings. Viktor tugged at the stiff starched collar of his outfit, silently cursing himself for deciding to hide his club gear underneath such conservative garb. But the sexy leather-strapped outfit underneath didn’t work unless people saw him dressed as a priest, dammit. Viktor went all out for his costumes, and he wanted the world to know.

A wolf whistle came from behind him, and Viktor whirled around to find Chris smirking as he pushed past a young couple making out under a flashing red LED light, the words _Saints and Sinners, official Easter Sunday party at The Black Stallion_ blinking in rotation.

“Viktor, I know we’re older than half the people here, but did you really need to announce that for the whole club to see?” Chris joked, eyeing Viktor’s full priest robes up and down. Even by Black Stallion standards, Chris was almost scandalously dressed - Viktor bit back a quip about whether he’d used his boyfriend’s sock to make the bottom half of his costume. He’d seen Chris’ naked ass in many situations, and yes, it was a sight to behold - so he couldn’t quite blame him for wanting to show it off to the entire club.

“I have something underneath,” Viktor responded, smirking. He pulled apart the snap-closures of his priest costume (sexier than velcro, but still ideal for easy removal) to give a hint of the leather underneath.

Chris whistled again. “Black straps in the shape of a pentagram? Very sexy vampire movie-chic. When will you grace us with the whole thing?”

“Oh, we’ll see,” Viktor said with a nonchalant lilt, taking another shot of vodka to drown the nervous fluttering in his heart, “Once it gets a little hotter, maybe.”

“Maybe once your mystery man shows up?”

Viktor almost choked on his shot, but luckily swallowed before he could shoot the burning alcohol up his nose. He made a very non-committal noise and fiddled with the collar of his robes again.

Chris sighed. “It’s been months, Viktor. You don’t even know his name. Shouldn’t you, you know, move on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Viktor mumbled into another shot.

“I’m talking about how the last time you fucked anyone was two months ago and the entire day after you whined about how you kept picturing your pole-dancing Houdini,” Chris rolled his eyes, “He probably doesn’t even remember you - he was completely plastered. Hell, maybe he’s not even from around here.”

“I,” Viktor began, but something drew his attention to the bar entrance, and he let out a very undignified squeak. “Ohh, shit, shit, Chris, he’s here.”

“What?” Chris whirled around, scanning the crowd.

“Don’t be so obvious,” Viktor whined, hiding his face in his hands. “Three o’clock, he’s wearing one of those… Shit, what are they called? The nun headdress thing?”

“He dressed like a nun?” Chris said, a mixture of surprised and amused. Then, he squinted at the two figures that had entered the bar. “Are you sure that’s him?”

“I’m sure,” Viktor nodded, firm. “I’d recognize that face anywhere. I’ve seen it in my dreams since the day we met…”

“Your wet dreams,” Chris muttered under his breath.

Viktor shot him a glare. Then, he seemed to go weak in the knees, and he moaned, “Ohhh god, Chris, he’s wearing upside down crosses over his nipples. I’m so in love.”

“How romantic,” Chris smirked.

“Do you think his nipples are pierced? That would be so fucking hot,” Viktor sighed dreamily.

“Why don’t you go and ask him?”

“I can’t just go up to him,” Viktor whined, “What if I creep him out? Come on too strong?”

“So, let me get this straight,” Chris said, “You spend months pining after some guy who showed up to one of the Black Stallion’s fuck ton of parties, and then when he finally makes a second appearance, you’re too shy to talk to him?”

Viktor opened his mouth, then almost instantly snapped it shut. “Well, when you put it like that… What should I say to him? I’m thinking something like… hey, what’s your name?”

“Smooth,” Chris nodded. Suddenly, he perked up and waved to a brunette with a fake plastic halo a few feet away. “I’d love to help, Viktor, but it looks like my ride is here.”

With a traitorous wink, he disappeared into the throng of dancers, leaving Viktor alone and feeling very sweaty.

For a moment, Victor sat back, watching his mystery man dance with his friend and thinking of how best to approach him. Everything, from that sheer top with the delightful upside down crosses, to the nun’s habit covering his hair, to those tight leather pants that clung delightfully to the curve of his ass, was _divine_. It wasn’t lost on Victor that they’d matched their costumes, however involuntarily.

“Meant to be,” Victor murmured, dreamily, as his fourth shot made him feel a little bit warm and fuzzy. He wondered if those crosses were pasties or actually sewn into the shirt.

The conversation would go like this, he’d decided: It’d start easy, exchanging names. Flirting. Saying how he loved the way the light danced off mystery man’s eyes. He’d compliment mystery man’s costume, and maybe how his ass looked in those pants, if the mood was right. Then, firmly on the topic of costumes, he’d wait for mystery man to say, _wow, aren’t you hot in those heavy robes_ , providing helpful hints if necessary, then he’d say, _Why don’t you help me take it off_?

Perfect. Now all he needed to do was muster up the courage to go over there.

It was so nice, though, just to watch Mystery Sister dance with his very pretty friend - laughing and touching his face, flushed with alcohol, adjusting his habit and running his hands down his chest. His lips opened in what might’ve been a moan, cheeks flushing even darker in the hot red lights of the dancefloor.

“Fuck,” Viktor swore under his breath. Suddenly, Mystery Sister turned in his direction, and he whirled around to pretend he hadn’t been openly ogling.

It was embarrassing. There was something about him that threw off Viktor’s entire rhythm, left him stumbling like a baby deer when he should’ve been a seasoned stag on the dance floor. He’d been coming to the Black Stallion since before it had been legal for him to drink - and screwing guys even before that. But one man, one beautiful, handsome, deliciously sexy man in a sexed up nun costume who had _just happened to_ give Viktor one of the best nights of his life a few months ago despite them not fucking-

It was like Viktor was fourteen again.

“Thirsty?” the bartender asked with a smirk.

Viktor shot him a glare and almost snapped back, but then a lovely voice, soft like satin, wrapped around his ears and lodged firmly in his brain.

“Two waters, please.”

Mystery Sister leaned heavily on the counter, and Viktor was at a complete loss. He stared, eyes and mouth wide open, and he barely even registered it as Mystery Sister put one finger under his chin to snap his mouth shut again.

Viktor blushed. Mystery Sister giggled.

“Not much of a drinker?” Viktor asked, laughing awkwardly. Then, he cursed internally. What kind of idiot question was that? Did it seem judgy, especially considering the multiple shot glasses wrapped around his arm like the beads in a rosary?

Luckily, Mystery Sister didn’t seem mad. He giggled and slid back off the counter in a sensuous arc.

“Not much of a spender,” he smirked, glowing orange light making the dark flecks in his brown eyes seem gold. Then, he looked to the bartender, conspicuously making drinks for other patrons, and whispered, “Phichit snuck some in.”

Viktor whistled, impressed, though he knew Yakov would murder him for letting a patron sneak alcohol in.

“I’m Viktor,” Viktor continued, trying to get them going according to plan.

“Yuuri,” Yuuri purred. He brought his hand, with his dark painted nails, to Viktor’s, and brought it to his lips.

Viktor’s heart shot right to his stomach and all the blood rushed south. It didn’t matter that Yuuri had used that exact move on him the last time around, it made him melt like ice cream in the hot sun.

“I like your costume,” Yuuri said, eyeing him up and down.

Viktor short circuited. “Thanks,” he blurted out, “why don’t you help me take it off?”

There wasn’t _silence_ , not exactly - the thump-thump of the club beats and the chatter of couples around the bar was ever-present and loud in Viktor’s ears. It occurred to him, faintly, that he’d pole-vaulted over the entirety of his well thought out conversation and had essentially propositioned Yuuri in the middle of the club.

“Um,” Yuuri said, as Viktor went through the five stages of grief in rapid succession.

“Shit,” Viktor stammered, “Shit, I meant… I’m wearing something underneath the robes. I’ve been waiting for someone to show it to. I put a lot of effort into the costume, and it’s getting kind of hot, I mean...”

For a few, awful moments, Yuuri just gaped at him, pink lips parted in a lovely “o.” Viktor fidgeted, for the first time since he was a teen feeling sweaty and insecure in his costume choice.

Then, in a sound both sharp as a knife and soothing as a balm, Yuuri began to laugh.

“Oh,” he said, simply leaning against the counter and putting his hand to his lips to muffle the laughter. “Alright. Why don’t you show me, Father?”

Viktor nearly blacked out. His knuckles turned white from gripping the counter at the way Yuuri said _Father_ , at the sensuous lilt to his tone of voice, and his lips parted in a moan.

The light shone blue on Yuuri’s face, and he seemed suddenly bashful, tucking a stray strand of hair into the edge of the habit.

The bartender returned with the cups of water. Yuuri reached for one, gulping nervously, and Viktor gripped his hand before he could. He brought it to his chest, to the snap closures on his priest robes, and moved Yuuri’s fingers with his own to pop the first one open.

Yuuri’s lips parted, then closed, and Viktor could see the blush on his cheeks even through the bright blue light. He snapped the next one open, then the next, fingers sliding along the black leather straps.

“Dance with me?” Viktor offered, trying to keep the childish plea out of his voice.

“Wearing that, right?” Yuuri asked, finger sliding underneath a strap to snap it against Viktor’s chest. Viktor nodded dumbly. “Let me get some water to my friend, and I’ll meet you back here.”

It was just like the first time. The scenes could have been shot for shot, approaching the bar, locking eyes, touching hands - except, now, Viktor had a name to go off of. For a brief moment, Viktor worried. He worried that Yuuri was just humoring him and would disappear into the night, like he had the first time, and he fiddled with the straps of his outfit nervously.

Viktor couldn’t say what he loved so much about Yuuri the first time they’d met. Maybe it was the way Yuuri pulled him to the dance floor, the way his body pressed against Viktor’s, a perfect fit. The fact that six months ago, Viktor was lonely and blank, avoiding relationships because his last three had ended so miserably.

After dancing with Yuuri, the world was full of color and brightness. Viktor knew what it felt like to be cherished, and it didn’t matter that Yuuri had done that by a stumbling attempt at salsa and all but dry-humping him on the dance floor.

No one had ever looked at him like that.

Viktor didn’t even mind that Yuuri almost puked on his shoes before being gently nudged into an uber while a friend of his - Phichit, Yuuri had said? - sheepishly apologized. It was the best almost being puked on experience of his life.

Yuuri returned then, draping himself over Viktor’s body like the thick robes, pressing up against his front.

“I’m ready, Father,” he murmured, pressing his nose into the fabric of the robe to nudge it off to the side.

“Oh god,” Viktor murmured against his cheek, momentarily struck dumb again by Yuuri’s beauty. “I mean… Of course, Sister. Help me with my robes?”

Yuuri giggled, the vibrations thrumming through him. The way his body slid against Viktor’s as he laughed, the way he nuzzled into neck and his hands slid under the robes - Viktor felt dizzy, and it wasn’t the alcohol.

The robes dropped to the crook of Viktor’s elbow, and he quickly moved them to a secluded enclave so Yuuri could take in his costume. Viktor was known for his outlandish, sexual getups, especially for Black Stallion events - and he tried not to preen as Yuuri took him in with an obvious interest.

Yuuri raised his hands and ghosted his fingers, his lovely, long fingers with the dark nail polish, over the rings holding up the pentagram-shaped straps over his collar and chest.

“May I?” he asked, almost reverently.

“Of course, Sister,” Viktor grinned, his tongue working properly again now that Yuuri seemed as enamored of him as he did Yuuri.  

Yuuri shot him an amused look before touching the pentagram, running his fingers along the silver rings holding the straps in place and dipping the tips of them under to touch the hot skin underneath.

Viktor swallowed noticeably, and Yuuri took that as his cue to touch the firm muscle of his chest, avoiding his nipples teasingly, before cupping the sides of his chest in his hands and running his thumb along the thick strap that sat right underneath his pectorals.

Yuuri looked at him again, hesitantly, a slight bashfulness beginning to show on his lovely face. Viktor took his hands and slid them down to his hips, letting Yuuri explore the intricacies of the lower half of his costume - the parallel straps along his waist, the gothic archway of silver rings and black straps on his abs, going up his belly. Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise as his finger brushed over the edge of Viktor’s bottoms, a sturdy fabric that barely covered his ass all the way.

“I don’t mean to break character,” Yuuri said, strangely bashful yet again, “But did you get this custom made? I can’t imagine most places carry pentagram-themed lingerie.”

“I could say the same about you,” Viktor noted, trying to keep his giddiness out of his voice. He reached out, hesitantly, before running a finger down the upside down cross on Yuuri’s mesh shirt, avoiding his nipple so as not to seem too forward.

He hit something, though, and Yuuri gasped out a moan, jolting forward.

Oh, _god_ , his nipples were pierced. It was almost enough, Viktor decided, to make a believer out of him.

He pulled back, though, and worried for a second that he’d made Yuuri uncomfortable. Instead, Yuuri giggled again, full bodied, and he leaned up just enough to kiss Viktor.

Viktor froze for a second before melting into the touch. It was a quick kiss, just the softness of Yuuri’s lips and the slightly alcoholic tinge of his breath, but suddenly the room seemed a lot hotter, the air around them a lot heavier.

“Dance with me, Father?” Yuuri murmured against Viktor’s lips, and Viktor breathed in his words, nodding dumbly as Yuuri pulled him into the crowd.

Viktor didn’t recognize the song. He didn’t recognize anyone, didn’t have eyes for anyone except Yuuri. He snuck a glance down to his ass, admiring how he could see every detail as he moved in front of him.

Yuuri spun around and looped his arms around Viktor’s neck, pressed their hips together, and swayed to the music. Viktor felt the straps on his hips and stomach move with Yuuri’s dancing, and he gripped the small of Yuuri’s back, wanting so desperately to move lower but wanting Yuuri to initiate so he didn’t scare him away.

“Oh, _Father,_ ” Yuuri purred into his ear, then stifled a giggle.

“What do you need from me, Sister?” Viktor murmured into his ear, flushed down to his chest as Yuuri’s nipple rings pressed into his skin through the flimsy fabric of his shirt.

“Move your hands lower,” Yuuri whispered, nose sliding up and down Viktor’s neck, brushing against some of the soft hairs at the base of his skull.

“Mm, anything for you, Sister,” Viktor joked, sending up a little Hail Mary as he gripped Yuuri’s ass in his hands. It was soft, plump, but with an underlying muscle tone that Viktor could feel as Yuuri swayed his hips to the music.

“Put your knee out,” Yuuri murmured.

Viktor complied instantly, body shimmering in excitement as Yuuri slid up his thigh, sitting and sliding his crotch up and down the length, still swaying in time to the beat. Viktor grabbed his ass again, gyrating with him, hot and sensuous - irresistible in the way he leaned up and laughed into Viktor’s ear.

“Oh, _Father_ ,” he breathed against Viktor’s lips, and Viktor nearly lost his damn mind.

As one song ended, after what had felt like an eternity breathing in Yuuri’s sweat and feeling Yuuri’s thighs squeezing his own and taking in Yuuri’s radiated heat from his exposed skin, Viktor lifted the starched white collar of his headpiece to lick a hot stripe up the side of Yuuri’s neck and flipped him around to grind against his ass.

Yuuri laughed wildly, so different from his earlier giggling, and leaned back to expose his neck for Viktor’s teeth and lips. He grabbed Viktor’s hair, silently begging Viktor to suck at the pulsing artery in his neck, while the other hand held the collar up for Viktor.

Viktor complied gladly, kissing the crook of his neck, pressing his lips up and down, pulling away the sheer mesh top to kiss and suck at his shoulder. It wasn’t enough to bruise - Viktor loved hickeys, but he’d had more than one awkward morning-after, realizing he had some important meeting, and his neck was leopard-spotted with evidence of the night before. That wasn’t something he’d want to spring on someone.

They danced for what felt like hours, bodies entwined perfectly, just like the first time. It was amazing how they fit together, how every touch from Yuuri’s fingers made Viktor feel like he was floating and on fire. He was drunk on love - dancing with Yuuri was more of an intoxicant than anything Viktor had experienced before.

Yuuri gripped Viktor’s hair harder, pushing his hips back into Viktor’s crotch, still in time with the music.

Viktor slid his hand up Yuuri’s side, fingers feathering over his nipples underneath those crosses. His other gripped Yuuri’s hips, and he grinned into Yuuri’s neck as Yuuri gasped and moaned at the sensation of Viktor’s fingers.

Viktor had barely even began rubbing against the steamy metal of the piercings before Yuuri jolted, wildly, and he let go immediately. Yuuri flipped back around and met his gaze with such intensity that Viktor froze all movement, unable to do anything. Yuuri flipped him over, so he was behind him, and his fingers slid under the thin string of fabric at his hips, tugged on the fabric covering his crotch while the other massaged the firm muscles of his ass tantalizingly.  

“Father,” Yuuri whispered, eyes dark and needy, “I think I need to make confession. Can we go somewhere private?”

Viktor paused for a moment, brain floating back down into his head from cloud nine. He wanted… He wanted this to be more than just an anonymous hook-up, though he had no doubts that the sex would be phenomenal either way.

“Have you been sinful, Sister?” he purred, angling his hips to give Yuuri a better grip.

“Oh, terribly,” Yuuri gasped, amusement shimmering in his eyes. “So, so sinful.”

Viktor took his hand and lead him to the back of the club.

Yuuri stumbled, slightly, and Viktor stopped in his tracks.

“Have you, uh, had a lot to drink?” he asked, nervously. Tantalizing as Yuuri was, if he was only acting out of drunken impulse, it wasn’t wise to continue. Viktor silently cursed himself for not making sure earlier, especially with how they’d been dancing, but Yuuri’s commanding voice had made any doubts or hesitation disappear.

Yuuri blinked at him, incredulously. “You’re asking me that _now_?” He asked, sounding almost angry.

Viktor winced. “Sorry, I just…”

Yuuri took a deep breath and calmed visibly. “No, no, it’s alright. It’s good for you to check. I’m fine, though, just a little tipsy - that stumble was because you’ve been practically fucking me on the dance floor for the past hour or so and my legs already feel like jelly.” Viktor inhaled sharply. Yuuri smirked at him. “How about _you_? I saw all those shot glasses.”

Viktor chuckled. “I’m Russian,” he offered as an explanation, “That was barely anything.”

“Well then,” Yuuri whispered, hot in his ear, “Take me to the nearest bathroom stall, Father, and fuck me senseless.”

“Oh god,” Viktor moaned.

“That’s the spirit,” Yuuri laughed.

“You’re awfully forward for a nun,” Viktor smirked, pulling him into an empty single-stall and locking the door behind him. He pressed Yuuri up against the door and lifted the collar again, kissed up and down his neck, sliding his hand under his shirt to thumb at his nipples.

“I just, _oh_ , I just want to be a loyal servant of god,” Yuuri stammered, moaning loud and long as Viktor pressed his lips to one nipple and lapped at it, running over the metal of the piercings and tugging at it gently with his tongue.

Viktor palmed at the front of those leather pants and felt Yuuri harden at his ministrations. He could feel the entire outline of Yuuri’s cock, his balls, pressed firm against the fabric.

“Confess to me,” he murmured into Yuuri’s chest, hoping he could feel the rumble of it deep through his bones.

Yuuri giggled a little, and Viktor had to smile at their little role-play. Instead of speaking, though, Yuuri unzipped his pants and slid them down to his thighs, smiling apologetically when they stuck there, sticky with sweat. He wasn’t wearing underneath, and Viktor salivated at his hard cock, at the curl of black hair above it. He ran his fingers through the hair, not touching the length, barely an inch away.

“Don’t be shy, Sister,” Viktor whispered.

Yuuri turned around, stomach pressed against the bathroom wall, and wiggled his hips in Viktor’s direction.

“Do you have condoms, Father?” Yuuri asked, almost bashful. “Or should I use one of mine?”

“I have them,” Viktor assured him, “I want to take care of you, Sister.”

“You’re so good to me, Father,” Yuuri smirked, nodding in approval as Viktor pulled a condom and two packets of lube from a little pouch on his leg.

“Mm,” Viktor murmured, slipping the condom on quickly and opening one packet of lube. “God loves all sinners.”

He warmed the lube up between his fingers for a moment, making sure Yuuri could see the way his fingers slid against each other, hoping he was waiting with baited breath to feel them in his ass.

Viktor slid one finger in easily. He nibbled at Yuuri’s earlobe as he slid in the second, slowing as he felt a slight resistance.

“You’re doing so well, Sister,” he whispered into Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri moaned and nodded, rolling his sensitive nipple in his fingers.

Viktor rubbed his clothed crotch against Yuuri’s ass cheek as he slid his fingers in and out, stretching the tight ring of muscle deep inside him.

“M-more, Father,” Yuuri begged, and Viktor obliged by sliding in a third finger. It was so hot, slick with lube, and Viktor rutted desperately against Yuuri’s ass as he felt around for his prostate.

Viktor cried out and jolted forward as Yuuri reached back to palm at him. His fingers slid behind the fabric and began to stroke him until his own cock peeked out and pressed against a strap on his stomach.

Yuuri wiggled his hips impatiently as Viktor continued to finger him. Viktor bit his lip, stroking along the walls with his fingers until, was that-

Yuuri cried out, precum dribbling out of his cock, as Viktor hit his prostate. Viktor grinned into his ear and stroked there once more, relishing in the gasp, the tremble in his thighs.

He pulled himself out of his bottoms, pushing the flimsy fabric to the side so his cock could spring free.

“Ready, Sister?” Viktor murmured.

“Yes, Father, yes, _please_ ,” Yuuri babbled, spreading his legs as much as he could with his pants still on.

Viktor grit his teeth so he didn’t come right then and there. He spread Yuuri’s cheeks, taking a moment to savor the delightful twitch of his hole, and contemplated continuing to tease for just a moment by sinking to his knees and pressing his tongue inside instead.

Yuuri groaned in frustration and grabbed Viktor’s hot cock, sliding it up and down his crack, mumbling, “Please, please, please.”

Viktor wasted no time in slathering his cock with more lube and slowly pushing the tip inside.

“Confess to me, Sister,” Viktor repeated, voice low and husky as he sunk deeper into Yuuri’s ass. Each new inch seemed to make Yuuri tremble harder, and Viktor gripped Yuuri’s stomach, touching the tip of his cock with feather-light fingers.

“F-forgive me Father for I have sinned,” Yuuri cried out, moaning as Viktor sheathed himself fully inside him. “Yesss, yes, Father.”

Viktor started thrusting, gripping Yuuri’s hips to stop him from jolting forward into the door at the force. It was hot, so _hot_ , Viktor’s cock and Yuuri’s body and the wet slap of skin on skin. He didn’t trust himself to speak, didn’t believe he could get the words out, because every time Yuuri called him _Father_ it went straight to his cock.

“Please, Father,” Yuuri moaned, “Please, touch me.”

“Should I?” Viktor teased, holding his hand over Yuuri’s hard cock but not touching, “Tell me why you deserve to be touched, Sister.”

“Father,” Yuuri gasped, “I’ve been so devoted, I’ve been on my knees every day in service to God.”

“Mm,” Viktor said, “Tell me more.”

“I need it, Father,” Yuuri cried, “I need to be touched. I need to be absolved of sin.”

“Of course, Sister,” Viktor managed, gripping Yuuri’s cock and stroking up roughly, taking care to swirl his thumb around the sensitive tip. He slicked Yuuri’s cock up with his own precome, grinning into Yuuri’s back at the desperate, high pitched sounds he made.

Yuuri’s legs seemed to buckle at a particularly strong thrust, so Viktor gripped him as they sunk to the floor together. He slid out of Yuuri, causing Yuuri to whine in frustration.

“Forgive me, Sister,” Viktor murmured, lining himself back up and sliding back in all the way, relishing in Yuuri’s pleased sigh and deep, heaving breaths as he began thrusting again.

“Nothing to forgive, Father,” he purred, glancing back, on hands and knees on the bathroom floor. “I deserve - _oh_ \- I deserve it.”

Yuuri’s plump ass jiggled wonderfully as Viktor slapped against it. He gladly leaned over to pump Yuuri again, and the other hand slid up and down his supple skin, from his lower back to the curve of his thigh.

“I’m close, Sister,” Viktor grunted, voice cracking as his thrusts became more erratic.

“Oh, please Father,” Yuuri whined, “Just a little longer?”

Yuuri cried out, head snapping up, as Viktor hit his prostate. Viktor grinned, adjusting his angle so he hit it again, again, _again_ , Yuuri’s voice increasing in pitch with each thrust.

“You’re so good, Sister,” Viktor moaned, “So good for me. Taking me so well.”

“Please, Father,” Yuuri cried, “Please, make me come. Father, I need you to make me come, please-”

“Anything,” Viktor gasped out, Yuuri tight around him, squeezing like a vice, “Anything for you, Sister, Yuuri, oh _god_ -”

He cried out, thrusting long and slow into him, letting Yuuri milk every last drop of cum from his cock. His hands were erratic as the stroked Yuuri, and he bit his lip hard enough to bleed to keep up the motions.

Yuuri choked out a cry, chest heaving as Viktor softened inside of him and stroked him through his own orgasm, come splattering the bathroom floor.

Viktor pulled out and sunk to the side, gripping the wall as he caught his breath. Yuuri looked at him with a wild desperation, curling up in his lap and kissing him breathless once again.

“Fuck,” Viktor swore, stroking Yuuri’s cheek tenderly.

“Mm,” Yuuri agreed, pressing their faces close.

Eventually, Viktor pulled off the condom, tied it up, and tossed it into the trashcan. They hastily wiped the come from the floor and their fingers and re-dressed.

Yuuri flicked some water at Viktor after washing his hands and said, “Baptism.” Then, he broke off into a fit of giggles.

Viktor laughed as well, wiping the droplets from his forehead, giddy in the afterglow in the dirty club bathroom.

“Hey,” he asked, before he lost the nerve. “There’s a taqueria not far from here. Grab a late night snack with me?”

“Ah,” Yuuri said, a little apologetically. “I’d love to, but my pants are feeling a little sticky. I’m not sure I could handle much more in them.”

Viktor tried valiantly to hide his disappointment. It wasn’t immediately clear if he was being let down politely, or if Yuuri would have loved to but really needed to change his clothes. Viktor decided he might as well be sure, that he’d waited this long so he might as well be thoroughly rejected before he gave up hope.

“My apartment isn’t far,” Viktor offered. “You could… I mean, if you’d like, you can borrow a set of clothes from me.”

Yuuri blinked and blushed - a sweet smile played on his lips, so different from the devious smirk he’d been gripping Viktor’s heart with all night.

“If you’re offering,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “ _Father_.”

Viktor nearly came in his pants.

 

* * *

Yuuri undressed gratefully in Viktor’s apartment. He sat on his ass on the bedroom floor and wriggled the pants down to his thighs, then his knees, then had Viktor help him pull them down over his ankles.

Viktor had worn the robes home, not quite ready to walk the city streets late at night dressed like he’d come fresh from the fetish club, and he tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner.

Yuuri slipped off the shirt and Viktor finally saw his nipple piercings in the light, the silver studs glinting against his skin.

Then, still naked, Yuuri helped Viktor unstrap every line across his body. He unbuckled the buckle at his navel, then the one on his back, and made sure to rub his thumbs over Viktor’s nipples as he tugged the top part off by the pentagram on his chest. The bottoms slid over his hips, criss-crossed like stockings connected to a girdle, and Yuuri sunk to his knees to pull them off until all that remained were the black bottoms that barely covered his ass.

There were red lines all over Viktor’s body from his costume, and the pentagram straps over his thighs had left their marks in his skin. Yuuri kissed them on his way up, pressing his lips to every mark, from the parallel lines on his hips to the dark red mark underneath his chest.

Then, as if suddenly aware of his own body, Yuuri pulled back, nervous.

“I’m not,” he began, “I’m not, um, usually like this.”

Viktor frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yuuri took a deep breath, wrapping his arms around his stomach. “When I drink, when I’m tipsy, I get very confident. I’m not usually… Like that. Confident.” Then, at Viktor’s expression, he quickly continued on, “I don’t regret it! I loved it, I wanted every dirty second of it, but you… You seem to really like me. I get why you liked that, but I’m not usually…”

He cut off, looking unbearably embarrassed, like he was admitting to a lie.

“I think,” Viktor said slowly, “There might be bigger problems if you _were_ usually dressing like a nun and having hot, semi-anonymous sex in public places.”

Yuuri laughed, despite himself, and covered his face in his hands. Viktor took that opportunity to wrap his arms around him and kiss his hands, covering his cheeks, kiss his uncovered lips, breathe in his hair, still sweaty from the club but smelling vaguely of some kind of gel.

“You were amazing, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured against his skin. “So amazing, better than I could’ve ever imagine. You’re still beautiful, even all shy in front of me.”

Yuuri blushed to the tips of his ears and dared to peek out from behind his hands. “You think so?”

“Of course,” Viktor nodded enthusiastically. “And I mean, we matched our costumes without meaning to. That must mean something.”

Yuuri laughed again, slow and deep, hands resting on his abdomen. “Of course,” he said, pleasantly. Then, his eyes seemed to darken, his pupils widening with lust. “The costume left such lovely lines in your skin.”

“Mm,” Viktor agreed. “Do you want to touch them?”

Yuuri nodded, bashful again, running his fingers along Viktor’s arms and down his chest.

“You know,” He murmured, “I never did get to use my condom.”

Viktor swallowed, tongue heavy in his mouth. He’d expected this, of course, when he invited Yuuri home, but now that they were naked in his room he found his age catching up to him.

Yuuri’s face, though, his soft skin, his kiss-swollen lips… He sunk to his knees in front of Viktor again, taking his soft cock into his mouth and sucking it back to hardness, and Viktor gladly ran his fingers through that deliciously soft hair as Yuuri worked.

“Wow,” Viktor murmured as Yuuri got hard from only a few strokes, still sucking him off. “You… Your stamina is incredible.”

Yuuri popped Viktor out of his mouth for a second to say, “Thanks, Father,” and kissed the tip of his cock.

Viktor groaned, heat spreading from his cheeks down to his chest, and it was his turn to cover his face in embarrassment. Yuuri laughed with him in his mouth, sending delightful vibrations up his length.

“I have, _ngh_ ,” Viktor moaned, “I have more lube in the bedside drawer.”

“Do you want a turn being fucked?” Yuuri breathed. “I don’t know whether you like to switch or not. I’m fine with either, but I don’t want you to feel deprived.”

“God, yes,” Viktor said. Then, without a hint of irony, murmured, “Fuck me, Sister.”

Yuuri nodded seriously, leading Viktor back to the bed. He popped the cap open and spread the lube over his hand, working Viktor open with firm, practiced fingers, stroking his prostate until Viktor was sure he was going to come right there, lying on his bed with his legs spread.

Then, just when he was on the brink, Yuuri pulled out his fingers and slid into him, leaning over to kiss him slow and deep. He fucked Viktor into the mattress, hips thrusting rhythmically, just like they had when Viktor was grinding into him at the club.

Yuuri’s eyes wouldn’t leave him, stayed fixed on his flushed face and dishevelled hair and those bright red lines. Viktor flushed at the intensity, at the thrusts that rocked him back and forth, feeling naked and exposed and bordering on overstimulated - he tried to cover his face, but Yuuri grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away.

“Keep looking at me,” he commanded, and Viktor unravelled.

Viktor came, quickly, with Yuuri’s lips on his and Yuuri’s hands on his cock, a condom catching all of his come so it didn’t dirty the sheets.

Yuuri kept fucking him, staring intently at his flushed red face, at his swollen lips parted in increasingly desperate cries as each thrust hit his prostate.

“Yuuri,” he cried out, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white, “It’s so much, it’s so much-”

“Shh, Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, thrusts picking up speed, “Just a little longer. You’re so hot, so good.”

With a cry, he came, body shuddering through the last few desperate thrusts. He draped his body over Viktor, kissing his collarbone, kissing his cherry-red lips.

They removed their condoms with fingers slicked with sweat and lube. Viktor sunk back into the bed as Yuuri tossed them out, sated and exhausted.  

“I’ll change the sheets tomorrow,” he murmured, half to himself, “Too tired to shower now.”

“Mm,” Yuuri agreed, falling into bed next to him.

“You’ll stay the night?” Viktor asked, blinking blearily, recognizing how silly a question that was when Yuuri was already half-asleep next to him.

“No,” Yuuri murmured, smiling sleepily as he pulled the sheets around them. “I’m leaving, right now.”

“Okay,” Viktor agreed, running his thumb up Yuuri’s soft, smooth cheek. “Okay.”

Yuuri stared at him, and a strange look crossed over his face. “I feel like,” he yawned, “I’ve met you before.”

Before Viktor could ask him about that, he was asleep.

* * *

 

Viktor woke the next morning to Yuuri pulling on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, gathering up his costume delicately and blinking hard, like his eyes were itchy and dry.

“Leaving so soon?” Viktor murmured, trying to keep his tone light even as disappointment pounded hard in his heart.

Yuuri nodded, sadly. “I, uh, teach dance classes, and my first one today starts in an hour. I need to go home, shower, change my contacts…” He smiled ruefully, “At least dancing with you the whole night saved me from a hangover.”

“I’ll see you again, though?” Viktor asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Yuuri nodded to a scrawled note by his bedside. “My number. Call me any time. Please.”

Viktor sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and eyeing the beautiful man he’d just spent the night with.

“Yuuri,” he said, voice trembling a little, “This was… One of the best nights of my life. Second only to the first time we met.”

Yuuri blinked, startled. “First time?”

Viktor paused. “The last time you came to the bar? Or, maybe not the last time, but that time a few months ago? On 80s night?”

Yuuri seemed to freeze. “I completely blacked out. I don’t remember anything after, like, midnight. Did we…?”

“No,” Viktor rushed to reassure him, “No, no, absolutely not. You were in no state. I put you in a cab and sent you home.”

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed noticeably. “You met me,” he said, slowly, “What… What did I do?”

Viktor smiled dreamily. “You completely swept me off my feet. We danced the night away, and then I gave you my number, and you told me I was your beautiful marble muse. This is,” He scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. “A little embarrassing. I admit, of all the possibilities, I didn’t think you would have completely forgot…”

Yuuri looked contemplative, and Viktor sighed in relief. If Yuuri had panicked and ran at the knowledge of his drunken antics, Viktor would’ve… Well, he didn’t know what he would’ve done, but that would have hurt.

“I came to the bar the last time months ago,” Yuuri said slowly, “And the day after, everyone said my dancing was better than it had ever been. It had a spark that my instructors and friends hadn’t seen in years. I had no idea why.”

“It was the same with me,” Viktor said, words tumbling out in a rush. “My art, my paintings… I’d lost inspiration, but then, we danced…”

Yuuri smiled, gently folding his leather pants into neat squares. “If that night was so good, I can’t imagine what yesterday will do for us. I’ll let you know how this affects my dancing. Assuming I still _can_ dance after last night.”

Viktor laughed, leaning back on the bed as a rush of emotion threatened to overwhelm him.

“We never did get to that taqueria,” Yuuri said, sadly.

Viktor grinned. “I’ll have to make it up to you.”

“You will,” Yuuri agreed. He sat on the bed, briefly, to kiss Viktor one last time. “I’ll see you soon, _Father_.”

Viktor snorted. “Not nearly soon enough, Sister.”

Yuuri laughed, a lovely, musical sound. He tapped the note on Viktor’s bedside one more time, for emphasis, then kissed him again and slipped out into the apartment.

Viktor curled back up in bed and giggled like a Catholic schoolgirl.

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi on [tumblr](https://revampired.tumblr.com)!


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